Song Lyrics Canibus F/ Journalist - Life Liquid    [Lyrics & Song Text Archive] lyrics archive>> C>> Canibus F/ Journalist Singer Lyrics>> Life Liquid Song Lyrics Author/Artist/Singer: Canibus F/ Journalist Music Title/Track: Life Liquid Theme ID: 3718 Album: N/A (Blood spillin in the streets!) The what? (Blood spillin in the streets!) (Blood spillin in the streets!) The what? (Blood spillin in the streets!) [Journalist] Uhh, yo, yo, aiyyo Aiyyo wit two precise niggaz, holdin the right biscuits There'll be a lot of cats leakin out they life liquid Niggaz who actin hard this ain't Columbia Pictures when we throw two in yo' ass while you huggin on your mistress From Philly, where cats quick to mute you at Cuckoo cats, twist back your FUBU cap Crucial black - two chicks to screw you at Then they shove a poolstick where you doodoo at While you checkin on your pagers, weapons in your faces Shot blazin, cops section off the pavement Hoppin out with gauges, prepare for the occasion We throw about eight in, the house that you was raised in Mouthin off fakin'll make you a loud patient Achin, with your arms in a alcohol basin And while your brain's achin I'ma have your dame slavin Cocaine and apron, over a flame bakin Chorus: Journalist + Canibus [J] Niggaz take it for granted - until they layin dead on the granite [C] Innocent bystanders get shot by standin [J] Y'all better duck when you hear the cannon [Both] or y'all be checkin for leaks - Niggas'll leave your blood spillin in the streets [J] Niggaz take it for granted - until they layin dead on the granite [C] Innocent bystanders get shot by standin [J] Y'all shoulda ducked when y'all heard the cannon now you layin deceased [Both] Niggas'll leave your blood spillin in the streets [Canibus] Can you feel it? Nothin can save ya Cause this is the season of the infrared laser And since I got time, what I'm gonna do is show you how you can get spotted by one too Cause I don't give a fuck, I just cock back and bust With more arms than an octopus, as if one gun wasn't enough I fuck around and pull eight out Blast your face off or blow your brains out Nigga, I'll leave you laid out Then I pull the gat in my waist out Put it in your mouth and keep squeezin til the whole clip is sprayed out Take the gun in my ankle brace out; shoot you in the stomach till I see the last meal you ate drain out Your face look spaced out, I gut you like a trout Scream my name out while I'm scrapin your rib cage out Squeeze with the index, spray like a bottle of Windex Bullets buzzin by your head like insects From your head to your mid-sec' And I ain't even shoot you in the legs or your limbs or your dick yet Your masculinity is questionable, you probably a homosexual Just the thought of havin a woman lay next to you probably threatens you You probably look at grapes and see testicles You probably fantasize about vegetables like cucumbers and bananas havin sex with you And you probably let gerbels crawl up your rectum too Shame on you; I (*defecate*) on you and simultaneously (*urinate*) on you and pour some acid rain on you I stop your heartbeat with heat You weak nigga, I'll leave your blood spillin in the street Chorus [C] Ayyo Journalist what you workin with? [J] Old school burners with barrels big enough for you head to fit in the circle shit What you holdin Canibus? [Canibus] 30 bulllet banana clips Just to handle the kick I gotta glue it to my hands and shit We got permits to murder shit We critically injure niggaz who deserve the shit Put em in a tournaquet [Journalist] Bomb proof Suburbans with tractor-tread tires so we can ride through the dirt with it (drive over curbs with it) Merc in it, even over slippery surfaces we can swerve in it (And crash into niggaz who don't deserve they shit) Try stoppin the dudes, you gotta be bruised Cockin the tools that knock you out your socks and your shoes [Canibus] We'll leave you shoeless and keep shootin Look how much life liquid you losin You need a blood transfusion [Journalist] In the back of a medic truck, shots in your neck and gut while we holdin our weapons up, I'm still reppin' Philly - what? (Blood spillin in the streets!) The what? (Blood spillin in the streets!) (Blood spillin in the streets!) The what? (Blood spillin in the streets!) Chorus .. The what? .. The what? .. 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